


If this is goodbye

by cherryskissy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Accidental overdose, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry, F/M, Fluff, Growing Up Together, Harry Styles - Freeform, Harry is a mess, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Masturbation, Panic Attacks, Recreational Drug Use, Time Skips, Top Zayn, Zayn Malik - Freeform, happy ending i swear, harry is dumb, i swear its not all sad, its pretty happy, liam is a minor character, louis and niall make an appearance, there is implied racism at one point, theres sex but not a lot, zarry - Freeform, zarry stylik, zayn is hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-15 11:41:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21252821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryskissy/pseuds/cherryskissy
Summary: "what happened to us?" Harry focuses on his feet that dangle down beside Zayn's swinging ones. if he looks back on the last Zayn-less year, he wishes he would have pushed himself to hold on a little tighter because it feels like nothing more than regret that it wasn't shared with every single waking second together like middle school."plenty...you were there most of it Harry, you should know" it comes across a bit of a scold.-Harry and Zayn find one another at a graduation party and reminisce over their childhood together, and the inevitable end of it, before parting ways forever.





	1. god? is that you?

**Author's Note:**

> because of the timeline, things are going to have to be fast, especially for their ages.  
please read tags carefully before you choose to read for trigger warnings!

Harry slips through the crowd effortlessly, a little hazy and dizzy maybe, but regardless of the amount of alcohol he's got in his system he's still very conscious of what's happening-more importantly the way his head is belting and he's already wanting to go home if it weren't for Kendall who dragged him to this senior goodbye party. Of course it's more his fault he'll admit, but how could he say no to the saddened expression on her face as she stands at the edge of his bed all "Harry i'm going to New York in two days-what will become of our duo?!".

She's been accepted to some pristine fashion college up that way, and the promise New York has has her wavering in excitement. Of course he was a bit of a social butterfly throughout high school (specifically senior year), which if you were Harry and not anyone else, you'd see just how terrifying that is seems he's riddled with anxiety despite the 'party boy' label he managed to find himself stuck to. He's an extrovert, but for the means of other people, because you can ask Harry to lay down his life and he will do just that for anyone. Kendall says it's being a push over but he'd rather call it kindness.

However, kindness isn't just doing it for him right now because he just wants to be in bed-which is why he's escaping through the back entrance to call a cab, deciding he'll text Kendall a little later saying he's got to go help his mom with something before he leaves in two days.

Cut very short, he finds the entrance to be occupied by a large group of people Harry remembers he used to hang out with before Kendall-no doubt they'd be wanting a reunion in the form of a happy little pill as a means of farewell to not only years of school (if that's what you call sneaking out of physical education to split a joint in the bathroom-no joke-weekly) but to their futures where half of them will be in various rehabs for at least fifteen-twenty odd years.

So, he turns, finding a railing that leads to a staircase, that leads up, and decides to follow it through. He's more than glad, a sigh of relief falling out of him as he ascends to a quiet (aside from the distant music flooding through a bathroom window someone's probably cracked open to filter their joint, and the group beneath him laughing away) escape.

he stills himself as he turns toward the edge where a figure, he would have missed if it weren't for the red ember emitting from the bud of a cigarette, and coughs "sorry I thought no one was up here" but it's more a plea for the company to shrug it off and allow him to stay because he can't bring himself to go back down to _that_.

"Hey" they turn, and Harry recognises it surely as Zayn Malik.

"Didn't think to see you here" Harry pushes passed the last year of awkward 'hi's in the halls after the two inevitably 'grew distant' in order to greet the latter. It wasn't out of spite; Zayn simply found himself in the art group and made new friends, meanwhile, Harry shifted to a group that he doesn't think he could quite put a label on, but very known nonetheless . Harry wasn't popular by all means, but he was the guy people talk about 'did you hear Harry did this?' before he even knew he did it himself (more often than not it wasn't even true; unless they are talking about the time he head butted _Lizzie Truman _when they had sex at a party-which didn't actually end up happening because of). At the same time, he wasn't fake, at least he'd like to think he wasn't. he was a good person, he was nice to everyone, not a soul could say a bad thing that was _actually _true about him.

"not really my scene, but I thought 'hey fuck it-it's the last" Zayn shrugs and Harry nods in understanding. so it's more of a 'might as well...' sort of thing he guesses, so he finds his way over to join the boy at the edge where he's blowing smoke down onto the empty back lawn and view of the pool.

"been trying to spit into this thing for the last ten minutes" he kicks his feet over the edge as Zayn flicks his cigarette toward it, and Harry would grimace and argue 'hey that's gonna be a dick to clean out tomorrow' but pushes past it.

It's odd how the two manage to be so _apart _of one another's lives but never truly _in it-_well, not anymore_. _there was a time of course they would call each other best friends, the original duo of _Brentwood High. _It's beyond them how easily they can just fall back into pattern like they never drifted apart to begin with, neither deciding to ever address it because it was a mutual thing.

"it's a bit of a drag" Harry admits about the party. at one point, he stumbled upon some sort of cry circle in the bathroom where he went to piss, several girls up in arms about the memories they've created over the years and how it's finally coming to a close. of course people are squeezing out the last drop of nostalgia school brings like its the 20th reunion of the class of 2012, and there's the obvious hype because people are over the exams, and they are over the stress of the last few weeks, and they are ready to transition into the real world and whatever's in store.

"that doesn't sound very prep of you" Zayn jokes, playfully pushing at Harry's bicep which he takes by surprise and almost topples sideways before catching himself "kill me before I even get to live!" Harry dramatises as if he were to fall over the ledge and splatter onto the ground beneath. it's really not that high, and he knows he's only feeding Zayn material to make fun of him at this point but it fizzles out after nothing more than a playful eye roll.

now Zayn's simply glaring at him from the side and Harry feels a wave of regret wash over him because they _really _let themselves fall apart.

"do you think it's god saying something?" Harry doesn't even realise he asks it, but he's staring off into the night and the sound of house music is tuning out as well as the group off to the side who have seemed to relocate. Zayn must catch on as he shrugs, and he just understands, "nah, more like a mutual hate for loud events" which erupts a chuckle in Harry. He'd like to think Zayn knows him more than all these people, that the last ten (or more) years haven't been for nothing and he knows the in's and out's of Harry's mind and how he _really _doesn't like the whole party scene.

Zayn could hear rumour of Harry having sex with some senior from an all girls school two cities away in the back of a car and call bullshit, and that just goes to show how well he gets him, and the fact that hasn't changed finds Harry's chest warming.

"what happened to us?" Harry focuses on his feet that dangle down beside Zayn's swinging ones. if he looks back on the last Zayn-less year, he wishes he would have pushed himself to hold on a little tighter because it feels like nothing more than regret that it wasn't shared with every single waking second together like middle school.

"plenty...you were there _most_ of it Harry, you should know" it comes across a bit of a scold.


	2. back to the start

Harry Styles met Zayn Malik on a day in july when he was eight and the new family moved in across the road. He remembers the way he hid behind his moms leg when she dragged him across the way to introduce themselves with a warm apple pie and Trisha pulls out a box from the back of the volkswagen the family currently had.

Zayn was dressed in a spider-man costume, which Harry remembers vividly because the boy _refused _to take it off for that entire year until one day Trisha decided to 'lose it in the wash' because he wasn't going into a new school smelling of a weeks dirty onesie that he slept in and dropped his corn flakes onto when he and Harry would sit and watch hours of Batman and Robin. in reality, she washed it and stored it away in the back of her closet which she kept boxes of childhood memories for each of the kids so that when they are forty and married they can pull it out and embarrass themselves.

Harry and Zayn argued a few days over how _spider-man is the best super hero, not the hulk _but when they joined at nine thirty every saturday morning for the new batman episode,they were able to both agree that Batman wins by a _landslide_.

The two families got close: Harry and Zayn being the same age, as well as Doniya and Gemma. Yaser and Harry's dad would share barbecue secrets as Trisha and Anne shared a glass of wine, and Zayn and Harry tormented Doniya and Gemma, and it was like that until Gemma and Doniya hit puberty and got 'gross' because Gemma put a lock on her door and they didn't want to play anymore which admittedly made Zayn and Harry upset, but they soon got over it because they could only get _more _time together afterward.

Anne refused Harry his own lock when he argued that he and Zayn needed more privacy in their 'lair' that was Harry's room, and she shook her head with "what possibly could two ten year old boys be getting into that's so secret?"

if you had of asked, they would seriously had of vowed to _plotting__._

"Harley Quinn is so cool" Harry decided one particular afternoon as he sat sprawled across his bed with one of Zayn's many comics in hand because it was raining outside and so they didn't have much else to do. he loved comics especially for two reasons: Zayn loved them, and they didn't require any heavy reading. Zayn agreed, Harley was by far _way _cooler than the joker on any given day, and it's a waste how they made her out to be so dependent and obsessive over the villain.

"Harry, mom wants to know if Zayn's staying for dinner" Gemma doesn't even knock, pushing open the door to stare blankly at the two as they look between one another "obviously" Harry replies and she rolls her eyes all moodily like a proper teenager before walking off. Zayn looks up at Harry from his position on the blue bean bag beside the bed where he's holding a superman issue and asks what has Gemma all 'painted up' and Harry gags "she has a _date _with a boy I heard mom say" at which, being two ten year olds, neither _really _know what it means.

"like a play date?" Zayn questions, his face contorted into a weird twist as he pushes the comic aside for now to sit up and cross his legs. Harry likes to think he has this big brain-which if he were to really admit, it was Zayn who was the genius of the two-and with all the wise he can crack up he goes "like a play date only it's about kissing!" whilst sticking his tongue out in disgust. whenever Anne and his dad are caught at the dinner table leaning in, he and Gemma frown in disgust between one another and joke around 'disgusting!' whilst pretending to have lost their appetites at the display of affection.

"I will never kiss a girl" Zayn shakes his head and Harry laughs "when you are old you will" because apparently it's the _law _and there's some certificate of adulthood you gain when you do it for the first time.

"no I won't" Zayn shakes his head, finalising as he crosses his arms in determination.

"what if Harley Quinn asked you for a kiss?" Harry too has discarded his own comic book at this point, turning his attention to his friend.

"no way-would you?" he turns the question over, a burning look as Harry thinks it over before shaking his head "i want it to be special-mom says _these things you'll never forget_" which is right because Harry will never forget the kiss he shared with a blonde girl with soft dark lips and pale blue eyes, the way her cheeks stood rosy in comparison to her light skin. it's crazy how he can recall all the details to the last drop but not the girls name, only he remembers it was special, regardless of it being on the monkey bars one lunch time when he was twelve.

Zayn, even though sworn to a strict _kissing girls is disgusting_ motto, shares his first kiss with a tall blonde girl when he is eleven one afternoon when he walked her home. she sprung the idea on him when she admitted she liked him and not knowing what to do with the information, he pulled out a brick from beside her fence and stood tall enough to reach her. he described it to Harry as nothing more than _weird _but the blush that tinted his face and pricked his ears made him look a lovesick fool.

it never worked out with Perrie, because Zayn couldn't really tell what love was and she had moved on by the following week. he didn't care, but he still won't forget the way her hair stood in a messy braid and she threw her books to her side as she pressed down on her dress and reached over to meet his lips.


	3. transitional necessities

On Christmas a year after the Malik's had moved into the neighbourhood and the two families decided to share the day together-not _Christmas _per say because when Zayn told Harry that his family didn't do that, he was absolutely crushed-but just a nice lunch instead. Harry and Zayn had been slaving around for weeks to create this bat mobile that didn't last very long because the wheel fell off and they went tumbling down the top of the hill that lead to their street. Harry remembers the way Zayn skidded his hands and as he reached over to help him up the boy yelped at the blood gushing from Harry's chin-and they spent that christmas in the ER (which who would have guessed to be a super busy day of the year when people decided to have one too many drinks and attempt stupid displays for a laugh. all the while Harry held a tea towel to his chin, ruining the white of it, he tried to joke around and get Zayn to smile because he was squeamish and nervous when it came to hospitals let alone Harry's agape chin.

he'll admit he felt that day had something to do with Zayn's irrational fear of blood from then on; once crying over the way he cut his finger in food class one day when chopping onions-not that it was very deep at all- and Harry told everyone the _crying _was just the onions, going as far as to make himself cry just for the effect of proving a point as the two sat in the nurses office with tear streaked faces.

when they got back, Harry said that he simply _had _to stay over at the Malik's that night in case he was to start bleeding again and he needed Zayn to rescue him. it wasn't much of a fight because everyone was too tired anyway, and the boys lay in Zayn's bed as they stared at the shapes the night light made on the ceiling beside the glow in the dark batman symbol they glued up there a few months prior.

"you look like you have a beard" Zayn, although too scared to touch the giant white bandage that hugged Harry's chin and made his small face even tinier, laughed along . Harry grumbled, and later that night they even coloured it in black to which Trisha was _very not happy _for reasons they didn't understand as she tore open a fresh strip to replace and rushed them back to bed.

to this day, you can still see the scar that hides under his face, and not many people come to notice it.

Harry traces it as they sit there now on the rooftop, and he turns to face the other boy "you got a few tattoos, continue to amaze me Malik" he noted pointedly. of course he remembers Zayn's first tattoo; this _Zap! _on his arm that just showed up one day and at the time, Harry didn't say anything, but he kept note of the ones that followed. ironic how Zayn seems to be the biggest scaredy cat when it comes to needles and blood, yet he has dozens of tattoos that make him look twenty five and not eighteen-amazing him on how he wouldn't get in huge trouble for it, even more from how his mother would have reacted.

"I like that one" Zayn nods toward Harry's swallows that wings peak out from beneath the hem of his shirt, and the way he was staring at them made Harry feel they were about to take flight with the tingle provided-which must be the alcohol seeping through.

he's glad because it helps him loosen up in these situations.

he remembers how much he hated alcohol only a few years ago and how one night they broke into Trisha's wine cabinet and almost threw up at the taste- "yuck!" Harry grimaced as Zayn shook his head "never again!" they agreed, not before Gemma and Doniya snitched on them and they got in so much trouble that they weren't allowed to see one another for a week. Harry snuck out each night to visit Zayn at his window and they chatted for an hour or so, until one of those nights Trisha caught Zayn pulling Harry through and after they got another yelling of their lives, it was agreed that _nothing _could come between the two boys and they simply gave up.

"that's gonna destroy your liver" Zayn shook his head as Harry holds the cup between his lips and he furrows his eyebrows "that's gonna destroy your lungs" he retorts, nodding toward the fresh lit cigarette perched between Zayn's. _touché ._

Harry thinks it's an artist thing-cigarettes- and he'll admit it suits the whole _brooding, thoughtful, artist _look with him too. He's happy for Zayn, that he found what he wanted so early on in high school and he's able to chase that, which is so very _Zayn._

They are sitting in a still silence again, and the slightest breeze is bouncing off of Harry's curls and seeping through his apparently not very useful jumper, not even the drink in his cup is working for him anymore as he places it aside and rubs his palms.

"here" Zayn goes to pull off his jacket in order to give it to Harry but he declines with a worried wave "no, no, you'll be cold" which the boy rolls his eyes knowing you'll never win an argument with Harry Styles, who worried if Zayn were to give him half his sandwich on that excursion to the city in middle school that he would _starve _even if he had just eaten an apple _and _a packet of chips.

"fine then, here" he offered a hand, reaching out through the small distance between them. Harry, getting the gist of things, scooted closer until their knees were touching and took the hand that Zayn offered as it wrapped around the small of his back to his hip. even if it didn't work the best to provide warmth, he took it and ran with it, feeling zayn's fingers brush over his thigh every so often as they leaned in to one another. Zayn smells like a mix between spices, turpentine, and honey, but the scent is warm and nostalgic all the same to him as he breathes it in.

-

when Harry and Zayn decided that on their thirteenth birthday they would have a joint party to celebrate, even though the dates were a few weeks apart, they had it at the Malik's. It was more of a gathering of friends they had gained over the school year; Zayn's good friend Liam who was great at basketball, Louis and Niall who took english with Harry even though their first interaction was actually the two joking about how Harry talked so slow it sounded stupid, and others.

Zayn invited this girl _Emilie _who was pretty, blonde, and perfect because she was also nice, which for some reason made Harry despise her. Harry at one point even went up to Anne and told her he wanted to go home halfway through _his _party because Zayn took Emilie to his room alone and he later heard from _Nick _who heard from _Xander _that they actually _kissed _(leaving out that part).

Anne tried to comfort Harry, tell him that Zayn was in no way trying to replace him with this girl, to which when she even uttered the words his mouth fell open in an angry expression "he's replacing me?!"

She shook her head and patted down his hair on either side before kissing him "honey, go have fun, everything's okay" because god, if she'd ever understand him.

When Harry was walking to the bathroom later on, having been sick of standing around watching Emilie latch onto Zayn and pull him away from him, he felt an arm wrap around his arm and tug at him before he was falling into a room and once he turned to find the culprit, Zayn was stood above him in a full-teethed grin.

"where's your shadow?" Harry almost spat, but his desperate attempt to come across as _rude _was more of _hurt. _Zayn's face faltered as he watched the boy closely like he was trying to figure him out "where's your smile?"

"you _kissed _Emilie" He just about whispered, like it was a secret. Harry was aware of the fact it's _not a problem _if Zayn kisses a girl because he wasn't much phased when he did at eleven (even if he was a bit jealous he got to have his before him, despite his flamboyant hatred of it) but the fact they were both turning thirteen, it felt like Zayn was transitioning into adulthood without him because that's what thirteen is-when you become a _big kid._

"no I didn't" Zayn focused on him, his eyebrows knitting together as Harry stood a little out of breath because he was so relieved, yet so embarrassed for acting so petty over something like that when he was meant to be a teenager now and not a child.

Just because Zayn knew Harry more than even Harry knew Harry, he shrugged him off and instead pulled him over so that they were lying on the single mattress bed, which the two were slowly growing too big to fit in at the same time, and stared up at the ceiling.

"do you feel any different?" Zayn questioned, glaring up at the glued batman symbol above like he was deep in thought. Harry turned to watch him, trying to read the question and the concern in Zayn's voice, then down to his side where they were pressed together and the way their knuckles touched, back up to the ceiling to think. He did feel different, but he doesn't think it's the type of different Zayn was referring to so he went along "not really"

"me neither-being a teenager blows!" he dramatised, shifting his weight to face Harry who grinned at the feeling of eyes on him before turning over "I think they lied to us" he returned.

"Zayn?" Harry whispered, like he wasn't mere inches from the boy anyway. His eyes were already on him, so Harry took it on queue to swallow the knot in his throat "if you got the chance to kiss Emilie, would you have?"

Zayn's lip tugged into a twisted smile as he thought about it, turning back up to face the batman symbol whilst Harry stared into the side of his face like he would find the answer there and then decide if he wanted to hear it or not, to brace himself.

"I don't think so" Zayn finalised, and Harry was thanking god silently as he nodded and tried to conceal his smile.

"good, cause I want to be first this time" he joked in order to excuse the awkwardness of his question because _who even asks that? _and _why should he care? _he told himself he doesn't.

"that's not how it works Harry" Zayn laughed, teeth bare whilst Harry shook his head to defend that _it has to be! I'm a new person! I'm an adult!_

Not much did change, aside from the fact the next week Gemma walked into the kitchen and scrunched her face up in a disgusted look as she pointed "Harry has a pimple!" and maybe Harry _did_ get _something _before Zayn. Zayn suddenly hit a growth spurt, and then decided to restyle his hair to have this ridiculous strip of blonde in it that Doniya made fun of him for "what are you trying to be? bieber? get all the girls?"

Harry liked to think he changed a lot, but Zayn got better than him because he lost all of his face chub and suddenly all the girls were swooning over him and those cheekbones. There was a few weeks when they tried growing moustaches, checking every morning and then sighing "see anything?"

"nope"

Then they realised maybe they _couldn't _do everything and gave up.

Harry also had to decide to stop watching those reruns of eighties movies they do every friday with gemma because he defended he was 'too old' even if it was for the fact that after watching _Top Gun _he had a weird dream about Tom Cruise that involved a stewardess outfit and a lot of groping, waking up the next day with a wet spot over his underwear and sheet.


	4. push

"so, I heard you're leaving" Harry pushed at the crack forming in the top of his red cup, forgetting about the time and how he still hasn't messaged Kendall over his whereabouts as he stared down to the illuminated pool, the few stray cigarettes from Zayn that swirled just above the surface. two people had come out earlier and stumbled over a few pool chairs, Zayn decided to pretend they were ghosts and yelled out to the couple warning them about 'the baby' which definitely ruined their night, but brightened up Harry's a little bit as he clutched his stomach and almost fell over the ledge before Zayn grabbed at him and scolded him for always being so clumsy.

"keeping tabs on me?" he knew Zayn was smirking at him, watching out the corner of his eye as he glared over to him, he looked proud of himself.

"no-just heard" Harry might've asked Liam, but Zayn didn't need to know.

"well yeah I am" Zayn went along, ignoring before Harry admitted anyway "Liam told me Stanford" just to see how Zayn would react, which was with a tight smile now and a harsh "yeah, and?" not skipping on the sound of concern in Harry's voice.

Even if they were no longer the right _brotherhood_ they once were, Harry still knew Zayn _in and out, _so he knew when he was hiding something-which was now. Most times he wouldn't press on it because what they have left is fragile, before he remembers this might just be the last they see of one another before they both finally move out in the next few days anyhow. Maybe Harry will see Zayn pulling out of the driveway with his mum in the front seat and they'll give one another a polite nod, a quick send off with no words extracted at the very most. Plus, he's already managed to fuck up their friendship for the most part so what's it going to do the harm of now?

"No you aren't" the certainty in his voice coming across so strong it took Zayn aback as he peered over in disbelief "what?"

"you aren't because I said so"

"you don't get a say"

"yes I do, as your be-as your friend" Harry picked, in a full stare off against Zayn who narrowed his vision at him back. He could've said something, Harry knowing Zayn was always the more up front one unlike himself who wasn't a very confrontational person to say the least. Thanking god silently when Zayn decided _not _to make this a fight, Harry shook his head again "you aren't because you'll be kicking yourself over it for the rest of your life". Zayn had this weakness for trying to make his dad proud of him. He knows about this because Zayn's dad went to Stanford, and he'd always boast about how glad he was to have been given the chances he had. the man had come from a poor background but worked his ass off so that they could move from West Virginia to Philadelphia when a little boy in their neighbourhood didn't come home after school because he had dark skin and was walking alone in a white neighbourhood, unlike the route his mother taught him to take to avoid certain residents.

Zayn's heard it before, he's had the looks before, even had a boy push him over one day when he was eight and said it was because 'my mum said you're a terrorist'.

zayn didn't know the word, neither did Harry, nor did the boy most likely, but he learnt that people didn't _care _to _understand _before throwing punches. if they saw something different, their first instinct was to push it away.

"I got accepted to Harvard" Zayn finally announced, only there wasn't any excitement in it at all, just a sigh. Harry's eyes blew up as his arms raised "that's amazing, holy shit!" because he knew Zayn could do it, because Zayn was the smartest fucking guy he knew and the hardest worker, even if he didn't give himself the credit (and Harry always made him aware, which he hopes Liam does that for him now that he isn't around to).

"I want to go-I want to go so fucking bad, Harry. but it's like, if I go, then I'm shitting on my dad and everything he's worked for" _bullshit._

Harry's eyes softened, hand reaching out to touch Zayn's lap with a little hesitation before leaning into the warmth and rubbing in comfort "you're dad fucking loves you man, and you know for a fact that he supports anything you do". It's true because he knows about how Zayn's entire family showed up to the art exhibition last year and the way Doniya took time off school to fly down, and how Yaser fucking _cried _when his son stood up there and gave a speech to a room full of strangers about how proud he was of his family and where they came from, and his dad. Harry doesn't think there was a dry eye in the room though, even _he_ cried he's certain.

Even then, Zayn's bound to the idea he has some hidden expectation for him to become a doctor like him and support a massive family and become this big man, and not some struggling artist in Massachusetts. Harry doesn't press any harder when Zayn doesn't respond because he knows that Zayn's smart and he'll do the right thing for himself in the end, always trusts Zayn knows what to do.

"what about you?" Zayn ask's instead. Harry honestly sort of hoped Zayn had asked around about _what's Harry up to? _but the look he's offering denies his wishes as he smiles passed it "Yale". Zayn makes a poshed-up-asshole face and Harry quickly punches him in response for teasing, and that's the end of it.

"come on, i'm about to piss myself" Zayn stands finally, shaking the dead out of his legs as he offers a hand to Harry who has his whole jacket to himself now which makes him curse because Zayn must've sneakily squirmed out from under it sometime during them sitting there for the last hour and a half, at least.

they make their way downstairs and back inside, finding that the party has somehow inhabited even _more_ guests than before as they manage through to find the bathroom. it's hard to get by the large crowd around the kitchen who are playing spin the bottle, which Harry rolls his eyes at, and then looks down to Zayn's folded hand over his own leading them around.

Harry waits outside the bathroom because even if they are suddenly having a moment of reminiscences between them, they probably aren't as close as they used to be to stand in there together and so he gives Zayn his privacy. He's pressing the toe of his boot into the skirting board where there's a loose piece of carpet in order to put it back in place as if he could fix it when he hears his name being called. he looks up to find _Jessie _looking up at him with this huge grin whilst _Ben _follows suit and they are both very clearly drunk, and something, but when aren't they?

there's a twist in his stomach as he offers a wave but they are _definitely _coming over. Jessie is holding Ben's hand even though she probably doesn't even realise when she's reaching forward and pressing up against his side "in all his glory" she grins, eyes wide, and he's not sure if it's a low blow or she's genuinely happy to see him "i'm just waiting for a friend" he gestures a thumb behind him as though it would will them away.

to his dismay, it fails, as she bites her lip and giggles when her chin perches up against his shoulder and he can see the residue of white powder on the tip of her nose which makes him grimace and wipe it away regardless of the fact they are no longer friends.

"come take a hit with us Harry" she suddenly pouts, stomping her foot like a spoilt little kid who had been denied the toy they wanted from the store. He's quick to shake his head, repeating the fact he was waiting for a friend before Ben surges forward and puts his hand over Jessie's to hold Harry's underneath "yeah, come on Harry, take a hit" he presses his lips to Jessie's neck as he keeps his eyes glued to Harry who is growing even more uncomfortable by the second "like old times" Jessie's thumb traces his jawline before the door opens wide behind him and Zayn steps out.

Harry should be relieved, thanking Zayn, but when he looks to see the way Zayn's glaring at him with his face scrunched up, it makes him want to throw up instead.

"yeah Harry, go take a fucking hit" his voice deepens as he spits the insult at him. Harry knows Zayn isn't calling him any names, he's not trying to hurt his feelings, he's telling Harry he hurt _his _now. he wants to fold over Zayn and hug him, promise him over and over I _wasn't going to, i'm not doing that, you know me _but there's no use when Zayn's already trudging back down the stairs and away.

Jessie covers her mouth as she giggles like they've just been caught doing something naughty, and Ben's eyebrows raise as if to say _what's that guys problem? _Before Harry pushes them off and follows after Zayn, knowing that he left his smokes up on the roof along with both of their phones and wallets (because they are dumb) and is just thankful they are both too high to realise he's left.

He makes it back up when Zayn's checking his phone to make sure it's got enough battery to probably walk home, shoving his wallet into his jeans, and Harry reaches out to stop him before he flinches away and gives him _that look _again. it's not the same look from inside, this one is the one he looked at when he realised Harry was _gone. _when his friend was a _shell, _and Harry spent months trying to sleep off the look in his eyes and the way after a few weeks of staring at them in the back of his head, he noticed the way he could see his reflection, which he hated even more. He'll have to spend maybe years more trying to forget this one.

"Zayn, that's not me" he begs. That Harry is long gone, because he flushed him away and then put on this new mask and he practised weeks and weeks over summer perfecting himself in the mirror to be _this _Harry.

"Can we sit? Can we please fucking sit? I cannot-I can't-if you-" Harry's clutching at his chest, telling it to start working again, because he can't remember how to breathe all of a sudden. Zayn knows Harry, _in and out_, so he reaches for his hand as he nods like talking someone out of jumping off a building-which Harry won't be surprised if he ends up having to- and trying to calm him "okay, okay Harry, you want to sit? let's sit, just sit down with me, okay? you're okay".

Harry takes his hand, maybe a little hard as he almost trips over himself when Zayn wills him to the floor slowly.

"focus with me, Harry. come on" that's the routine. Harry focuses on the way his palms feel against the cold ground, and how he can slowly start to hear the bass coming from inside taking over the banging of his heart against his eardrums, and he focuses in on Zayn's eyes and the way they no longer look like _that _and are full of concern and sadness. all of a sudden he doesn't care he was just in the middle of a panic attack, because he wants to hug Zayn and ask him _what's wrong? why do you look so sad? where's your smile?_

"please, believe me" Harry finally breathes, and his voice sounds scratchy and hoarse like he's just breathed in a load of smoke from a burning fire, the walls of the building starting to cave in on him. Zayn pulls him into his chest, his hand reaching to cup the back of Harry's head as he hugs into him. Of course, Harry leans in and rests his face into the crook of his neck, his hands holding onto Zayn for dear life because it feels like it's been _years _and he's only just started to breathe again when the scent of honey and spices fill his nostrils. he hopes that if he holds on tight enough, the scent will seep into his own clothes and stick, so that he can carry zayn around with him long after he's gone.

"I know, I believe you, I believe you Harry"


	5. Harry Styles, the teenage oddity

It started when Harry was fourteen. It was around the same time his parents started to get serious about a divorce, and the fighting got a lot more frequent, and a lot louder. Harry spent copious amounts of time around the Malik's when Gemma would grab him and drag him around like the older, protective sister she was, but he wasn't complaining.

Gemma was of course getting older now, so much so she was graduating next year. She told Doniya one time she was going to run away, because she couldn't stand to be around her parents any longer, and when Harry overheard, he rushed into Zayn's room and hid under his bed without a word until Zayn crept down and asked if there was enough room for him too.

some time over summer, Zayn had somehow convinced his parents to get him a double bed-because his feet pooled over the end and it was embarrassing to have all the weird graffiti signs he and harry had made over time when he brought people over.

It was when one morning he walked into the dead silent kitchen and asked where dad was that Gemma gave him a warning glare and Anne shook her head "eat your food and grab your bag".

Of course he couldn't let it go because he heard the really big fight they had last night, and he was a naive fourteen year old who didn't understand boundaries. Sometimes when he couldn't go to Zayn's, he would sneak into Gemma's room and hug her until they fell asleep or the voices stopped, but last night Gemma locked her door and he was left to sit on his bed under his pillow begging it to end before there was a _slam _and silence.

"Is he coming home?" he asked, and Anne tensed where she stood by the sink with her back to them before she turned screaming "No-no he's not coming back! he's never coming back! and we don't need him! we are all we need!" so loudly that Harry had to stand up and step away from the table as Gemma minded her business and glared down at her cereal. He picked up his bag and walked out the door to find Zayn, having Trisha hug him and tell him _both of your parents love you so much, baby, just sometimes parents get scared too _before taking them to school. That day in english it was during a pop quiz that Harry started having trouble breathing, and his teacher gave him a look that said _obviously _because they had just come in from lunch and had to do a test, which many kids took any excuse possible to get out of.

He was sent to the nurses office anyways, and the woman handed him an inhaler before sending him back to class. He started getting asthma a lot often after that day, and he stopped playing soccer with Zayn at recess saying that it might trigger it, resorting to sitting on the side and cheering him on against Liam.

He wasn't so sure why it happened so randomly. Sometimes he'd be in his room and all of a sudden it would start with this pit in his stomach, and then he started to sense it was coming, so he worked himself up and then the next thing he knew, he was clutching at his inhaler and willing his lungs to start working again.

it wasn't until six months after this sudden _predicament _that Trisha gave him a worried glare after he got a sudden _attack _whilst sleeping over when Anne had to start picking up more shifts to cover for two parents. Gemma and Doniya were out at a party and Harry had this _revelation? _that Gemma was graduating soon, and that maybe she was _serious _about leaving, and he started hiccuping as he pulled at his chest, having forgotten his inhaler because he was _stupid _and left it at school when he was too excited to chase after Zayn when Yaser pulled up out the front to pick them up and go home.

Zayn screamed after Trisha, swearing to god that Harry was about to _die _before she managed to get down to his level and hug him. She told him "focus on something you can see" as he stared off at Zayn to the side holding the doorknob and peering in with worry, and then she told him to focus on what he can feel, the carpet beneath him and how it scratched at his knees, the circles she was making in his back to soothe him, and what he could smell which was her strong perfume, and repeat until he finally calmed down and she peppered kisses over his face.

The next afternoon, Anne came and picked him up early from school to take him to the doctor and they told him he never had asthma to begin with, it was a Generalised Anxiety Disorder. He remembers the way Anne hugged him so hard when they got home, crying into his shoulder and apologising over and over before Gemma walked in and joined them. Then he started going to talk to this lady, and soon enough he started taking these pills instead of his inhaler.

Zayn once asked him what it felt like when they were pressed up against one another to the hip in Zayn's now _double bed _even when there was _plenty _of space and he put his hands on his stomach to think for a second. It was so weird because it happened _so often _but he never really thought about it until now, it was just one of those things.

he told him it starts off like this _hole _, a tiny crack in the very depth of his stomach that starts opening up and it's like he can feel the storm is about to hit but he doesn't know _exactly when _and then his heart starts to beat fast, and he gets scared that it might just jump out, and then his throat closes up because he's forgetting to breathe and his vision starts to blur like when you stand up too fast and all the blood rushes to your brain until he forgets _how _to breathe.

Zayn frowns and says "that sounds scary" with just as much sympathy as a fourteen year old can muster as he takes Harry's hand in his own and tells him that he's never gonna let him die on him. Harry believes him.

Harry started to notice that feeling he got when Zayn held his hand, and it was very different, just like on their thirteenth birthday when Zayn touched it then. He knows what _sexuality_is, he's definitely looked into what it means to have _sexy dreams about __Tom__Cruise_on gemma's laptop when she abandons it in the dining room to go text this boy she's been hanging around with instead of doing her homework. Although, he also knew he liked girls, so he was a bit confused. Even more when Gemma walked into his room without knocking a few nights later and sat down on his bed, telling him that it was okay to like boys _and _girls. He asked her if that _changed _him, and she shook her head, told him he doesn't _need_ to call it anything because it's for him and no one else. She also told him next time to delete the history when he's done snooping around her laptop without her permission, and maybe just ask.

So, one night when Harry stayed over whilst Anne worked a double shift and Gemma was out, he asked Zayn about how _he_ felt about girls.

"I like girls?" Zayn gave him a worried look, like maybe Harry finally lost the plot. He just nodded back and played with his finger against his lip before looking away because he didn't want to see the way Zayn's face would react to the question "what about boys?"

"Well i've never kissed a boy" just because Zayn knew Harry _in and out, _of course he started to catch on. Harry was just thankful he spared him the awkwardness of having to explain _well I like girls, but I also definitely like guys, I just need to ask because i'm still __not sure how to be certain_before it's thrown back in his face when Zayn turns to face him to ask "what about you?", his eyebrows risen in curiosity while Harry starts to squirm "well-i've never kissed a boy" he repeats.

"Do you wanna?" Zayn asked next, not like a _let's make out right here right now _kind of way but a _would you? _Like he didn't care, he just wanted to help Harry figure it out. Harry bit his lip, eyes darting back up to the batman symbol on the ceiling when he swallowed "um, I don't know" _yes I know because I dream about kissing Tom Cruise at least once a month at this point__ and I want to be sure it's not just my head playing jokes._

Zayn sat up, looking down at his friend with curious eyes as if to read him, but it only worked to make Harry even more nervous "well then I'll kiss you and then you tell me, and that way i'll know too. Killing two birds with one stone," he proposed when it was obvious Harry wasn't going to be the one to make a move-not being one for confrontation.

"okay" Harry nodded, not knowing what to do and how to prepare himself as he sat up so that his elbows supported his weight to meet him halfway "wait-how do you kiss a boy?" was his next question as Zayn shifted to cross his legs.

"Just like you kiss a girl, idiot" he rolled his eyes and Harry o'd in response before clearing his throat "I just wanted to be sure, because I don't want to ruin it" it _was _his first kiss with a boy, and more importantly _Zayn's. _He didn't want to be the one to ruin his first time with an underwhelming kiss of course, especially with the list of girls who had the chance to kiss zayn prior (which wasn't actually more than two but it still felt like a competition to him).

Zayn cupped Harry's cheeks in his hands as he licked his lips, making the boy copy his movements and do the same as Zayn's eyes darted down to his lips whilst he moved in, making Harry tilt his head backward and to the side to assure he _wouldn't _head butt him.

Harry remembers Zayn's breath that hitched when their lips touched-just slightly-and he reached up to put his hand to the back of his head as they closed in. Harry didn't know how Zayn did it, the way he nipped gently at Harry's bottom lip willing him to open his mouth, and then pulled away momentarily to ask _did you feel anything? _before Harry stared at the redness in his wet lips and shook his head _I don't know, try again? _before Zayn was nodding and reaching down again, this time pulling Harry up so that they both sat vertically with their knees pressed hard against each other as Harry opened his mouth this time, letting Zayn nod into it and find a better rhythm. He told him when he asked, that he learnt it from this girl one day, and Harry just nodded and took note that Zayn was an _excellent _kisser.

Harry was _certain, _from the feeling in his pants _and _the look at Zayn's that they definitely _both _liked boys, or at least each other.


	6. Abbey Road

On Harry and Zayn's fifteenth birthday between the two families, which had become an annual thing, and Anne had brought Robin around to meet Trisha and Yaser, they sat in Zayn's room after dinner and listened to this collection of cd's Robin gave to Harry and told him to give a listen.

"I like Robin" Zayn announced when the cd resumed to play _Her Majesty _and they had somehow sat around listening to the whole of _Abbey Road _in one go.

"me too" Harry smiled because he had seen in movies about how much the kids hate the step dad, or the step mom, but it didn't feel like Robin was there to replace anyone and he was a great guy. he also made Anne smile, and made it easier for her to be home because she no longer had to work extra shifts to cover two parents. Gemma had announced over Christmas she was going to spend time in Africa before she settles into school which Anne had no problem with at all, actually in fact supported it, and although Harry was a little bummed about it and came into her room after she stopped locking him out to hug her until they both fell asleep, he didn't feel that impending hole inside him trying to open up and eat him entirely like he imagined.

so robin was, as his brain decided, good for them all.

They didn't talk about Harry's dad, and how he didn't call this year, and how he didn't mail a card, they just sat there and listened to Abby Road for the second time around within each other's presence because that was _enough _for a birthday and even better if he wasn't ruining everyone's night by having a melt down over it as he decided.

"I like your hair like that" Harry rested his palm over the top because Zayn stopped putting all that gel in it, and had gotten sick of Doniya making fun of him about the dye, so let it grow back to its natural dark. Zayn still frowned at the boy for touching his hair like always, and grabbed his wrist to push him away as he teased him saying "i'm gonna touch it".

"you have the nicest hair anyways" Zayn defended, pushing his finger tips through it to push strands back out of his face from the prior tussle "luscious locks" he joked, but with all seriousness.

of course his curls were starting to grow out, not as nearly as curly as they used to be, which he didn't mind at all because everyone always said he looked like he had a horrible attempted afro-which Zayn always argued they were all liars and missing out because he got to touch them all the time and he thought they were _amazing._

"stop, no, the horror" Harry dramatised, pausing when Zayn chuckled against his lips and told him to shut up before tilting his chin up to kiss him. admittedly, nothing much had changed in their friendship from the night when they decided they both like boys _and _girls, except for the fact they started kissing a lot. at first it was just as a joke, and neither had a problem with it because it was _funny. _this little inside joke between them, until they just started doing it more often, and they would be in the middle of trig on Harry's floor when Zayn will reach over and kiss him on the lips, before they would get back into it "the answer is 'a' right ?" and it was just _normal. _they didn't have to talk about it, or question it, they just did it.

it got a little awkward when Harry stopped dreaming about Tom Cruise in a pilots outfit and instead it was Zayn, but when he told Zayn about it he just cackled, falling over and gasping for air as Harry groaned "hey! it's not a joke! I can't help it!" before Zayn was shaking his head and tackling him, pushing his wrists down against the floor sitting just above him and catching his lips the next second.

Harry liked being fifteen, he liked how he and Zayn could casually make out all the time, and how he could dream about Zayn and not be phased over it at all. He also liked when they went to Liam's birthday party together and when _Emilie_ came up to Zayn saying she missed him (because she moved away last year and they used to be good friends) he said "oh yeah i'm here with Harry" like it didn't mean anything, but it meant everything at the same time, and Harry felt a little bit of pride in him at the look on her face as she smiled "do you wanna hang out?" and Zayn turned her down "maybe later, but it was good seeing you!"

Harry and Zayn had decided they _hated _wine, they also decided they hated vodka, but being on the cusp of fifteen and thinking they were _all so cool_ at this party with beer and mixers of sorts, they pretended to love it around everyone else.

after a while, Harry would admit, it started to taste like coke and not with a hint of vodka. at the same time though, his tongue started to feel heavy, so he wasn't too sure about how reliable he was as he held onto Zayn's side because even if he was feeling a little light, he was still very aware of everything happening around them and the fact this was a big party for a fifteen year old.

Harry made out with Zayn in the bathroom, not being able to tell which one of them tasted like bad alcohol (admittedly probably both), but focused on the smell of honey and spice as Zayn licked over his lips and he opened his mouth. Harry had recently opened his mind to the wonders of the internet, Porn specifically, and when he asked Zayn if he could _suck his dick_, his eyes went wide for a second before nodding because he too had started jacking off at least three times a week like it was the _best thing _and he didn't know how it took him so long to discover this while he pulled down his pants and Harry learnt that it wasn't nearly as easy as it looked, but it was also _better _than what it looked, especially when it was with _Zayn_tugging on a fistful of his hair, trying to hold in a groan when his tongue swirled over his tip, whimpering _Harry i'm gonna- _which Harry, very dedicated to the cause, swallowed as much as he could get before wiping his face with a towel.

They made out some more, and Zayn jacked him off, before Harry walked out to go find a spare pair of pants from Liam's room because he _had an accident._

he had been to Liam's a grand total of one other time when Zayn _insisted _he come to do their history project, despite the fact Harry wasn't even in their class, and they played around the whole two hours while Liam wrote it all out, so Harry wasn't all too familiar with the two story house-especially when it was inhabited with all of these people.

Then, like a wrecking ball, he realised he didn't even know where he was right now as he tripped over a girl's foot and almost fell into the coffee table, and that's when that little pit started forming in his gut. The thing was, Zayn wasn't there with him right now which made him freak out even more because _none _of these people knew he had anxiety, and he doubts half of them even know what it _is _to help him. as he walked deeper into a specific hall, his hand holding the wall as the crowd started to dissipate on this side, he finally found himself pulling up to a door and falling into the room because he didn't care_ what _room he was in right now, as long as it was away from there and he could find a window, or at least have a second to himself so he could call Zayn and tell him to find him.

"little dude" there was a guy sitting on the bed, and another who Harry recognised as a senior,and Liam's older brother, sat at the desk in his underwear holding a controller.

the one on the bed had this cigarette in his mouth and Harry didn't know what to do because he couldn't for the life of him turn around and walk out back into that party.

"you good?" Liam's brother asked out, not very nicely but who was he to argue when he was the one inviting himself into strangers rooms, and Harry shook his head.

"i-anx-panic-" god it would be even worse if he was wearing some badge that read _hi, I have anxiety, so if I start hyperventilating-please do something and i'm sorry in advance._

"ohh, my cousin has that man, sucks" the one on the bed shakes his head, somehow being able to decode his mumbling along with the look on his face, before pointing the cigarette toward him "I read, or watched, somewhere that weed helps with anxiety dude"

"that's bullshit" Liam's brother rolled his eyes, raising a judging hand.

"no joke bro-my cousin uses it for real" he defended, now offering Harry the _joint _and telling him to try it out and tell them. Harry had heard about drugs, about how in PE they told them to _say no! _but if he was being promised a gateway to non-panic-attack-land right now, then he didn't care if he had to break that rule as he took it and gave it a try.

he assumed it was the same as smoking a cigarette, and he had seen that plenty in the movies so he took that technique and drew on it. the guy told him to hold it in his chest for a moment before releasing, which he _so _would have done professionally if he wasn't now choking on smoke, and the older boys laughed about. then Harry realised _he _was laughing too, and suddenly the pit in his stomach felt dormant as he took the joint from _Matt (_he learnt the name of the boy in the beanie) on the bed and took another try.

he didn't know how much time had passed, but next thing he knows, Gemma is flying across the room and punching Liam's brother _square in the face _before grabbing him by the arm and flicking the joint out of his other hand to drag him out the door into the hall. Liam was there with Zayn to the side who looked to have been crying, and suddenly all Harry cared about was getting to him and hugging him asking _hey what's wrong? where's your smile? _before being knocked back into reality "Harry you little shit! where's your phone?!" by Gemma yelling _way too loudly._

he pointed to his pocket, smiling back at her as the sound coming out of her mouth just dissipated into thin air while he looked over at Zayn who was still eyeing him in worry.

Gemma went off about how lucky he was that Zayn called _her _when he had been missing for half an hour and not either of their mothers the whole car ride home whilst Zayn leaned his head against his shoulder and held his hand, telling him how much he scared him, and that he even thought he regretted what they did and just skipped (okay he said that later when they were in Zayn's bed, sober, and away from Gemma's ears).

Harry shook his head and grabbed his face between his hands "don't _ever _think I would do that to you" before kissing him.


	7. The Fall

Fifteen was Harry's best year, his favourite, much so because sixteen was the downfall of it all. Gemma had finally moved away from home and he _did _get to steal her room and claim the larger space and double bed which suited him to invite Zayn over instead of always sleeping over at his house because of how small Harry's bed was.

That was when _Jessie_ moved over from Illinois, and he felt this _weird _feeling, sort of like the one he used to get when he and Zayn touched knuckles in his little single bed when they were thirteen.

He took it as, _she's a pretty girl, _and nothing else as he continued to kiss Zayn, and dream of Zayn, occasionally give him a hand job or a blow job (which through practice he got much better at) and nothing else changed. for his luck, she grew rather fond of him and decided they were gonna be good friends.

Zayn told him one afternoon when they were walking home after Jessie _finally _parted with them two streets back that he didn't like her _at all _, and Harry defended that he was allowed to have friends outside of Zayn.

"you have Louis and Niall" Zayn retorted before Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes. yes, the three of them were friends, but that was strictly in school and they didn't talk very often anymore anyways.

"okay but you have Liam, and you don't see me complaining every two minutes when you guys are always laughing and joking, and touching" Harry couldn't believe Zayn was acting like such a defensive jerk, never having seen him like that before. it was obvious he didn't like Jessie like that, especially when Jessie wasn't the one who's dick he was sucking on a tuesday night instead of doing math homework.

"I don't even like Liam like that you idiot" Zayn raised his eyebrows, and Harry glared at him with actual annoyance, wishing they would hurry up and get home so he can go do something better with his time rather than to argue about this.

"you give him weird eyes and shit" Harry had been guilty of finding himself jealous of Liam every now and then, but that's before Zayn would put his hand to his knee and smile at _him _like _that. _the smile he only gives to _Harry._

"why'd you have to blow this all up, I literally just gave an opinion" Zayn frowned, shutting down the conversation. Harry was about to explode because as _if _Zayn is telling _him off _for being 'dramatic' when he's the one who brought it up to begin with "why do you have to go all ballistic over it?" which was the nicest way he could put it.

"because I fucking like you, dumb fuck" Zayn groaned, shrugging him off to turn away and walk across the road to get home before Harry grabbed at his hand "what the _fuck_, Zayn!"

"what? I may as well _say it _because you won't! isn't it obvious?!Jesus, Harry!" so now they were in the middle of the street for everyone to hear, and for any car to come by and run them over at any given moment.

"no it's not that! you can't just admit to liking me when we have an inconvenience! that's not fair!"

"well I fucking did!" when Zayn screamed back, Harry maybe wished for a second a semi would drive by and run _Zayn _over, _and himself _of course.

"well I like you too so fuck you!"

"no, fuck you!" Zayn turned around, storming off to go home, before Harry could even register what was happening and stomped off on his own too. of course being Harry, anxiety-stricken-cant-live-without-Zayn-Harry, he started to over think it all. he had a shower, angrily jacked off under the spray, and went to bed before Robin could walk in and call him for dinner, pretended to sleep, thought about Zayn and then it got all too much he decided to slip out the window (he realised gemma had broken the screen to and that's how she managed to sneak out every night) and cross the road over to Zayn's.

he snuck through the back door using the key under the fishing gnome, and tip toed upstairs into Zayn's room. creeping over, he didn't say a word as he pulled open the covers and slipped out of his shoes to get in beside the boy with a kiss to his back. Zayn turned around, opening his eyes but not saying anything (to Harry's upmost relief) before slipping his arms around him and bringing him into a kiss.

they didn't talk about the confession each of them made earlier during their argument, and just slept until morning before going to school as usual, and the routine continued.

the next week, when Jessie invited Harry to her birthday party (and the whole year level seems she was new and said she wanted to make a good impression) he forced Zayn to come along, who also forced Liam, and they sat around for a while before she found them and slowly willed Harry out.

He was too nice to say no. looking back, it was probably a lot easier if he just did, but Zayn gave him an angry glare when she was sticking around and then decided to ignore his attempts to silently plea him a way out as Zayn went on to talk to Liam. She took him to her room, and when he asked her if she was about to ask him to kiss her and she said _why? do you wanna? _it felt like some twisted joke.

"umm, I already have a-" he rubbed the back of his neck before she laughed cutting him off then with "okay, chill, i'm kidding" and a giggle before reaching into her bedside drawer and pulling out a box.

"what is that? weed?" he asked. he had tried weed maybe once or twice after Liam's birthday party and Zayn told him it wasn't _too_ bad because it's not like you can _overdose _so he shrugged.

"I stole this from my brother" she smirked, opening it to reveal a small bag of white powder which, Harry is no idiot, was obviously cocaine.

"have you ever?" she asked next when he just stared unbelievably down at it and shook his head "have you?"

"no, but I decided i'm sixteen now so why not?" she dipped the bag so that she could plant a line on her desk and started cutting it with her library card like Harry's seen in the movies. his eyes followed along the whole time, and when he started to feel that pit in his stomach again and knowing Zayn was so angry at him, he decided to take the dollar note when she handed it to him and pressed it to his nostril as he leaned over and snorted the whole line.

he sneezed when he stood up first, which made her laugh, and then complained that it burnt and how he _didn't like that at all._

maybe and hour later when he came downstairs, feeling a little funny from sitting around her room all that time, he noticed Zayn had left already and was he was alone to find his own way home. Anne didn't appreciate that at all (that Harry told her he told Zayn to go home and he came back later-which meant not only did he leave _Zayn _to walk home by himself in the dark, but he told no one and came home himself even _later_)but luckily the walk gave him enough time to sober up.

the next few weeks Zayn spent ignoring Harry because rumour started to fly around that Harry and Jessie _fucked _in her bedroom that night. He even took away the key from under the gnome so harry couldn't get inside any night.

after two weeks and Harry was now blocked from Zayn over text, he decided to confront him in the cafeteria-which is a _big step _for him. however, when he finally worked the confidence to storm up to Zayn's table, he was sat with a girl on his lap and she leaned over to press a kiss to his lips which made Harry sick to his stomach, and that pit started to form, only this time he didn't have anything to help get rid of it because Zayn wasn't by his side anymore.

Jessie became his _primary _and _only _friend after that, especially when Harry found out _Clara_and Zayn were official, and he started to have panic attacks a lot more often. he smoked weed with Jessie who said she got it off her brother, even when Harry asked _why would your brother just give you drugs? _wanting to add _that's irresponsible _but would be a little much coming from _him_.

When Jessie found out about Harry's anxiety one afternoon when she was going through his stuff in his room whilst he played _Abbey Road _and read a book on his bed, after finding his pills, she pulled them all out to take a look.

"woah you are fucked up" she marvelled at them (obviously meaning it in a _you're so cool _way) going through each label when he sat up and swallowed back "oh, I mean, I don't take them a lot these days"

she gave him a smirk and took a pill out "I heard this stuff is like _great"_

Harry, knowing exactly what she was talking about, shook his head "my mom would notice they are missing, and she'll be home soon" not that it made any sense, and not that she checked his prescriptions until he told her he was out or she felt it had been a while since the last bottle and got him some more regardless thinking he forgot to mention it.

"that's fine, I brought my own" like it excused it, and when did she start carrying around? Harry decided that if _she _was going to snort, then so was he, as he took the bill from her moments later, and when did he start taking them outside of parties? a few weeks after she took him to her friends birthday party, some kid named _Ben _from her old school, they did heroine in his bedroom between five of them. Harry only let himself do it because he knew _none _of these people and was starting to feel nervous, which only lead to a panic attack in the middle of this room whilst everyone is too high and fucked up to offer him some help because he still doesn't know how to get through it alone.

Harry kissed Jessie that night, and also kissed Ben, and when he was dared to make out with Ben for a whole minute he closed his eyes and tried to pretend it was Zayn from the way his hair felt short like Zayn's. of course though, he didn't _smell _like zayn so it wasn't all too effective, but then he thought about Zayn and his girlfriend so he sucked ben off later to that idea.

for the most part, the drugs made him happy, and they also kept that pit in his stomach down (every now and then he would have a bad trip, but what's a little bad to a world of good?)

one night when he stayed at Ben's who told him he wanted to _try something _, which turned into Harry losing his virginity, rather painfully, he walked home and even thought about going over to Zayn's window and start knocking. then he started to think about _what if __Clara__ is with him? _before he went home instead.

turns out, after a while it stops being all too much fun when you find out you are doing lines in the bathroom instead of being in history, and when you are being fucked by this guy who _isn't your boyfriend, not really a friend, more of a drug dealer? _and then you start to wake up with the thought of what you'll be smoking that afternoon instead of the assignment due first block.

When he stayed at Ben's one night and had two lines, some weed, and maybe some shrooms? he felt sick and decided to walk home. then the pit in his stomach started growing as he pictured his mom waiting up for him to see him come in high off his ass, he freaked out and found himself outside Zayn's window and knocking gently.

"Harry? what are you doing?" Zayn rubbed at his eyes and Harry could've just melted into him now "I think i'm gonna have a panic attack" it wasn't so much a lie, more of an excuse though, letting Zayn help him through and onto his bed. he slipped off his shoes and sat Harry down, frowning at the sight of him as he shook "Harry, what the fuck are you doing?" it sounded so sad, and Harry found himself reaching to comfort him _why are you sad? where's your smile? _when Zayn took a look at his arm, the small yellow bruise and the marks left behind from needles, and he kissed his palm before lying down with him "Harry you have to stop" he pushed back his hair. Harry wanted to tell him it was okay because most of the time it was weed, which Zayn knew was better than the alternative, and he's only done heroine a handful of times, other times it's a few lines at most.

If this was the real Harry, he would've folded in on him right then and there, sobered up from the words alone and never touch a thing again.

"I'm scared Zee" he frowned, feeling tears welling in his eyes and blurring his vision because it was the first time he admitted it. he couldn't say this to Jessie, his only friend, and he couldn't say this to Ben, not even himself, but it was always _Zayn_.

"what do you need? i'll help you, anything" now Harry wanted to slap Zayn, and then beat the shit out of himself because here he is- pulling Zayn into his shit.

"just don't tell my mom, please, i-i'll get it out, i'm gonna fix it" he said, stroking Zayn's jaw with his shaking fingers before falling asleep with him by his side for the first time in so long.


	8. get better. get better. get better

for a while bit it got a little better. Harry and Zayn turned seventeen together, even though a year ago neither would have guessed it.

Gemma sent Harry a letter from Africa wishing him a happy birthday, and he cried as he read it, then he spent the rest of the night cooped up with Zayn in his bedroom. He is pretty sure Zayn noticed it, that he wasn't sobering up, but just to have Harry there -not on drugs- worked for him, so he didn't say anything because it meant for that one night, they could pretend the last year didn't happen and they are Zayn and Harry , making out casually in his double bed pressed up together so close.

"Your hair is so long" Harry pushed at it, smiling when Zayn didn't push him away from it unlike he used to. Zayn scoffed at him "have you see yours" before sifting his own fingers through it, pushing it behind his ear and over his shoulder as Harry sat on top of him.

"are you here?" Zayn asked suddenly, his finger tracing over Harry's covered arm which made him peer down in guilt at the look of hurt in Zayn's eyes right now, like he was expecting him to say no and maybe even pop a xanax right in front of him.

"yes" he promised, and for the most part it was true. it was especially true when Zayn held his cheeks between two hands and pulled him down close enough to reach his lips, Harry abiding his attempts to get him to open his mouth when he breathed against it as if to wait.

"good" Zayn played with hem of his shirt, his hands gliding up Harry's sides to pull it up and over, throwing it off to the side as he traced a hand over him now as if to watch him, to make sure this was Harry, his Harry. suddenly, he felt disgusted in himself, wanting to cover up because Zayn was looking at how skinny he was because he was skipping dinner at home for lines at Jessie's, and the marks in his arms that didn't seem to heal so fast, which made Zayn shake his head (because zayn knew him in and out) "you have to get better" repeating it over and over until Harry kissed the words out of his mouth so that he wouldn't cry thinking about them all night instead of sleeping.

"please-please make me feel better" Harry begged into his mouth, so much it hurt Zayn to hear even more than to see the effects it was having on him. he didn't feel himself anymore, and he's not sure when that came to be but he doesn't like it, doesn't like the way he hurts Zayn even more. Harry worked Zayn so that he could pull his shirt off whilst they made out, parting once to lift it over his head before their mouths were back on each other, like they depended on the neglected emotions and abandoned touches. Zayn sat up to get a better angle whilst he unzipped Harry's jeans, followed by his own, and turned so that he could manoeuvre his hand over the bedside table and into the drawer to pull out a condom and lube.

"i miss you, i miss you, i miss you" Harry whispered into Zayn's neck when he lubed up his fingers first to stretch him out, positioning them under him before he groaned at the contact. it was all his childhood tom cruise wet dreams coming to life, and when Zayn had worked him up to three and he couldn't hold it back anymore, begging him to fuck him because he was painfully hard, Zayn tore open the packet and wrapped it over himself, allowing Harry to press his tongue over the tip as he rolled it on for him instead, making Zayn pre-come even (like the horny teenager you couldn't blame him for being) before he was repeating fuck me, fuck me Zayn, make me feel good, that he was putting a gentle hand to his hip and shadowing over his hole.

Harry hissed at first when he finally leaned in, Zayn allowing Harry a moment to adjust around him before he was whimpering "please, please Zayn" and he started to fuck into him slowly.

it wasn't like Ben at all, it felt really good with Zayn, like he imagined it to be, and he wished Zayn could've been his first instead of Ben as he pressed a hand to his hip, watched his face and the way it moved with pleasure, the way he pushed a hand through his hair and licked his jaw, or sucked marks into his neck with gentle bites, his pace starting to pick up as Harry told him "harder, faster, please Zayn, need you"

Harry came untouched, an 'o' forming with his lips followed by a grunt as he groaned out Zayn's name, having him start fucking him faster afterward and coming himself not much later. when he pulled out, tossing the condom to the bin beside his bed, Harry stared up at the ceiling and frowned at the chipped paint where the batman symbol once stood above them.

"Harry?" Zayn kept his eyes trained on the ceiling, breath trying to even out as Harry hummed in response to let him know he was listening.

"get better, okay? I don't want you coming back here until you are better-I-I can't watch you do this to yourself, it fucking hurts" Harry turned to see the tears pooling down the sides of his face now and sat up, crossing his legs and looking over to his clothes tossed to the side "what if I don't? g-get better?" Harry never wanted to suggest the possibility that it might not happen, but he was so far in that it was getting hard to go a day without a line or two.

"t-then, I never want to see you again" he finalised, trying and failing to sound stern as his voice cracked.

To say Harry didn't try would be a lie. for a little bit, he blocked Ben's number, he took two weeks off school telling Anne he thought he had the flu when she stared horrified at his pale face. after five days it got unbareable, and all the scalding hot water wouldn't stop the crawling of his skin and the pit forming in his stomach telling him somethings coming.

He fell to Ben's doorstep and Jessie helped him in, they told him they'll help him feel better when he told them "i want it to stop" because he wanted Zayn. he fucking needed Zayn. not Jessie, and not Ben. certainly not the highs.

It was when Anne got a call from Harry's psychology teacher telling her he's failing, to which she then told Anne just how much school Harry was missing, that she searched his room and found a baggie in his pillow case.

He told her he was just holding it for a friend, that it wasn't his, and she wanted so badly to believe him that all she did was ground him, start driving him to and from school, and threw out the single bag. He was spiralling and fast, Jessie looked like shit, and so did Ben, but he just couldn't keep going.

"this is the stuff" Ben threw a small packet of pills down at the small coffee table one night they were all there at his house. Harry had heard them talk about it, heard that Ben had done it before but not Jessie, LSD .

he didn't want to, told them that he can't right now because he has to be home early but when everyone around him was getting high, blowing money, and he couldn't stop the pit from growing in his stomach having thrown out his medication a few weeks ago, he gave in because he wanted to fly with Tom Cruise, or even better, Zayn. So he got really high, so high that if you asked, he wouldn't be able to tell you what he had and just how much.

He fucked around with Jessie when she dragged him into her room, and then Ben came in later and she told Harry to calm down, it'll be fun.

come on Harry she pouted, urging him to snort another line as she tugged a hand through his hair and licked at his collar. Ben walked over, dragging his knees across the mattress to reach them as Jessie pulled away from Harry for a moment to catch Ben's lips before turning back and giving it to Harry. He felt sick, the way Ben was stroking his leg, and then how he palmed him through his pants as he told him yeah, relax.

"wait a minute" Harry sat up, blinking through his blurring and wavering vision as he found his phone and somehow dialed the right number, tumbling into the bathroom joint to the room.

"Harry?" Zayn croaked, obviously just having woken up from his sleep. Harry wanted to punch himself as he stared through the mirror at the sight of, pale, narrow, Harry, and he started to cry "Zayn i'm scared".

"what's wrong? are you okay?" he was up now, he could tell he was pulling on his shoes as his breath huffed and the sound of fumbling picked up.

"i-i don't know-i-i had a lot-" he feels sick, maybe it's the motion sickness, or maybe it's just the mere sight of himself "I know you don't want to see me Zayn-i'm sorry-but I had to b-because it's all that makes me feel happy-because you aren't around-and the pit in my chest is going to swallow me and i'm going to disappear-and I need you to come and get me" it's the lowest thing he could have done, dragging Zayn into his shit again, but Zayn was already in the car and telling him "don't take anything else, where are you? i'm coming now-wait for me outside-drink some water-did you have any pills? get them out of you Harry-this isn't you".

Zayn's on his way, he relaxes back into the bed as Jessie kisses him, pill on her tongue as she wills him to open his mouth.

"Zayn's coming for me" he thinks he says, unless they are too high to register, unless he's too high to realise he didn't say that at all, and Jessie slips the pill between them as it dissolves in the heat of their tongues. Ben is readying a needle to the side and when he offers it to Harry, Jessie looks at him nervously "he doesn't look too great-Ben-Ben maybe we shouldn't" she reaches for his hand weakly but he just laughs "Harry are you okay?"

he nods slowly "Zayn is coming for me" or maybe he didn't say it at all.

"that's right buddy" Ben chuckles, pressing the needle into his dainty arm and probably missing the vein as he releases the warm liquid into him, making him hum for a moment as he stares up at the ceiling trying to find the familiar glow of a batman symbol.

he's seventeen.

this isn't right.

he's too young.

those are the words his mother screams when he's rushed to hospital in Zayn's tiny green car he got for his birthday, dragging him into the ER by his arms as he tells Harry to stay with him.

get better. get better. get better.

and he spent the entire summer in rehab getting better, for Zayn, for Anne, for Robin, for Trisha, Yaser, Doniya, and Gemma who raced home when she heard about it. Zayn didn't visit once, but Harry doesn't think he owes it to him after walking in on him foaming at the mouth alone on the bedroom floor after Jessie and Ben left, the sight of him seizing uncontrollably and his eyes rolling back, when he told him. he told him, that he didn't want to see him until he got better.

But he's better now, because of the look on Zayn's face if he can remember. that was a year ago, he's graduating with Zayn, in which even he is surprised, and probably Zayn too, if that's not too dark of a joke to say.


	9. no more sorry's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is more of a filler

Harry is calm, up against the side of the house with Zayn as they sit around and wait for a cab now because Zayn told Harry _that's enough, you just need to rest._

"Zayn?" Harry is playing with the rings on his fingers, scared to look up at him now.

"Harry?" he looks down to him, scared he's on the verge of another panic attack, clutching onto his arms like he might fall through and disappear.

"i'm sorry-I never said I was sorry"

Zayn watched him, pleading through the silence for him to just look up as he shakes his head "you don't need to, that wasn't you".

"if you didn't come, I would have died. iI would have died surrounded by people who didn't love me-didn't care about me-I probably would have sat there for days-"

"Harry, shut the fuck up" and it wasn't a joke because Zayn had a whole summer whilst Harry was gone to think about that. the _what if i didn't make it? _and _what if he doesn't come back? _because neither boy got to say goodbye this time either. he had the whole summer to wake up in a sweat at the sight of Harry, lying there, dead, and he promises he thought about going to see him but felt like he might break if he did.

"also I lied" Harry's lips tug into a sad smile, finally looking up to Zayn who is watching him intently and in confusion "about what?"

"i'm not going to Yale" He wasn't planning on telling anyone because everyone loved this Harry, the Harry who was _better__, _and he felt as though if he were to admit it and be the odd one out of all of his friends who are going to various states and cities to pursue elaborate and promising careers, it might come across as he's admitting he doesn't know where he is in life. which that thought alone is enough to prompt the growing void in his chest, not before Zayn is reaching out for him _again_, because no matter what Harry did he was _just__ there, _and rubbing circles around his back "that's okay"

Because Zayn knows Harry _in and out, _can see from the way he's refusing to make eye contact with him like he's going to pull away and move across the country tonight instead of having to watch Harry possibly fall apart again, scarring him enough the first time, that he is lost-but it's okay.

"you don't need to have it all figured out from the start, give yourself time" he promised, and if it came from anyone else Harry would scoff and shrug them off, but it came from _Zayn _and of course he believed him. When a cab pulled up eventually and they climbed in, Zayn supporting Harry from behind as he scuffled over the seat to leave him room, Zayn took them home and let Harry lie his head against his shoulder because he was _so damn tired_.

of course he made sure to message Kendall, wishing her luck and goodbye because he thinks they are bound to drift apart as she moves, which he's surprisingly okay with and she responds with 'stay safe idiot, love you x don't forget me'. he had to give her credit because when he came back to school, and Zayn made the effort to stay _very far _from Harry and his shit (he's still not blaming him for it, nor saying he didn't deserve it), and he himself steered very clear of Jessie and Ben around town, and somehow (but very gratefully) the world kept turning and no one asked what Harry Styles did that summer. he thinks it had something to do with Zayn telling everyone he was visiting his sick grandma, and he didn't want to talk about it, which ended in people avoiding asking him how his summer was as well. Kendall was there, new to school because she moved over with her mother when her parents got a divorce, and grew a liking to Harry who joked "you aren't some drug dealer on the side are you?" as she laughed "I like you".

"come over" Zayn gripped Harry's hand, gently tugging at it when they got out and he paid off the driver, Harry swaying on his feet as his hand connected with Zayn's own to steady him. honestly they probably could have walked, the distance only two blocks, but Harry was about to fall asleep as it was and Zayn was growing cold, which Harry flicked his ear and yelled _I told you! _before forcing him to take back his jacket. He wasn't up for making a fight out of it, as ironic as the idea of them fighting over something so small right now seems, and follows suit as they step up to the back door. Zayn takes out the key from under the gnome and Harry sort of smiles to himself over the idea that maybe Zayn put it back hoping he would come over and let himself in at two in the morning to cuddle up to him in his double bed and sleep.

"my parents are helping Doniya move" he explained, making Harry 'o' even though he knew because Trisha came knocking on their door two days ago to tell Anne because, even though Zayn was eighteen and capable of looking after himself, she wanted to ask her to keep an eye out because he was _still_ her baby boy.

Harry, untimely, answered the door and she smiled brighter. by now he had been back for a year, and they didn't see much of the Malik's because Gemma and Doniya were both respectfully on their own paths whilst Zayn and Harry kept their distance. Anne and Trisha still made the effort to hang out, it's just when it came to surprise late minute dinner plans he shrugged them off for homework instead of the off chance he'll stumble into Zayn. He wanted nothing more than to see Zayn, don't get him wrong, Zayn was the main reason he went to rehab to begin with, and he did it for him-as cliche as it was- but he didn't think Zayn felt the need to comply to any concern or help Harry ever needed again. Trisha asked him how he was, not at all referring to any _particular_ thing but in general, and he said well, before she asked if he could pass on to Anne that Zayn is home by himself for a few days and that she's so stressed because they are driving up to help Doniya despite being behind because they had his graduation last week and it took so long to get things ready with her, and now they need to be home in a few days to catch Zayn before he leaves too, and she almost looks like she's about to cry because here she is helping her kids move out and go to college when it wasn't that long ago she was helping Doniya with her _girl issues _and washing that pesky onesie that she swears she can still smell to this day. Harry does what anyone would have done and surges forward to wrap her into a hug, being taller than her now, telling her she did _so well._

"I'm so glad you're here, Harry" she rubs his cheek when they pull away. his smile falters for a second as he thinks _yeah, all thanks to your son who had to go see a therapist all summer because of me _and he doesn't understand why she isn't mad at him, why she's not grunting and rolling her eyes at how pathetic it all seemed.

Zayn reached over to help Harry with his laces, grunting when he lost his balance at one point and fell on his ass. funny, Zayn is _still _helping him, all this time later.

"don't look at me like that" the way Zayn laughs through it as he peers up at Harry before back down to his shoes as he pulls them off and Harry wriggles his finally free toes "i'm not looking at you like anything" he swallows.

"you're looking at me like you just kicked me" Zayn deadpans, which maybe he's right, maybe Harry _is _giving him a look.

"you would have fucked me up if you had of died, but you didn't, and you're here, and so am i" He reaches up to his chin, tracing his finger over the scar that rests there before meeting his eyes "no need for any more sorry's" Harry wants to cry at how much he looks like Trisha right now, always having her compassion and need to care and to help, those soft bambi eyes.

"okay" he nods finally, helping Zayn back up and wrapping his arms around him because he doesn't think he will ever get over how good it feels to finally hug him again, to smell that same spice and honey scent he's managed to preserve after all this time. Also there's that part of him still aware that this won't be happening much more, so he wants to make sure he's perfected the vision of Zayn in his head up to date and that scent which he can't find to compare anything to because it's just so _Zayn._

Reluctantly, Harry peeled away so that he could go to the toilet now that all his drinks were catching up to him and he had to pee. He passed the few closed doors of bedrooms and toward the last on the right because he had been here plenty of times before and knew how to find the bathroom blindfolded (very true, he did it once when Zayn left him stranded in his room with this makeshift blindfold covering his eyes to go and get something to eat and he almost fell down the stairs).

When he gets back to the room, he can hear the first verse of _Come Together _and his ears prick up as he smiles gently, walking back in to where Zayn is sitting rather bored on his bed adjusting something on that tiny radio Yaser took out of the attic for him when they were twelve "I swear I haven't listened to the beatles in too long" Harry breaks the silence, catching the other boys attention as his eyebrows raise in curiosity.

"I think that's a crime" he points at him, Harry making his way back over to join him on the bed now and lying adjacent to him with a huff before Zayn's adding "are you tired? do you want to sleep?" like a worried mother, which, if Harry was being honest did sound like a great idea right now despite the fact he didn't want it to end just yet.

"not really" his eyes are glued to Zayn's lips, maybe subconsciously wanting nothing more than to reach out for them and to trace them so that he can print them in the back of his head so he doesn't forget he once got to touch them, add them to the list too.

the way Zayn freezes beneath him, his breath hitches like he's surprised or like Harry's unlocked something before he's taking his wrist in his hand with a warning "i'm leaving in a few days, and so are you".

it feels like a punch to the gut because here he was, so close, before the rug is ripped from beneath his feet "if I can figure out what to say to my mom and Robin" he settles for a joke, ignoring the sting in his chest and the way he pulls his hand back like Zayn burnt him.

"you will" he promises, and Harry believes him, well he has to anyway.

"then can we just forget for a minute?" he doesn't mean to come across as desperate, leaning into his side when Zayn opens his arm to give him the space, tucking Harry's head in the crook of his neck who's pretending he's thirteen as he takes Zayn's hand in his own this time.

the thing is, he doesn't care if it hurts when it's over because then at least he can have one last taste of what it was like to be a blip in the life that is Zayn Malik's, and maybe it'll feel like he completed the story this time, that he didn't fuck it all over completely beyond repair.

"apples" Zayn mumbles into Harry's hair before he's looking up at him and Zayn's inches away, reachable, "you always smell like green apples-probably because of the body wash your mom has been buying you since you were a kid-but it's etched into your skin and now it's gonna smell up my pillow" there's a ghost of a frown hiding under his smile, and it makes Harry wonder if he's going to take that pillow with him and if he's gonna keep it close because it reminds him of him. it's overwhelming and a bit of a stretch but he knows he won't be washing this shirt for days after he's gone and it's all he has left.

"Zayn I-"

"don't say it. if you say it I don't think i'll be able to leave" Zayn begs, eyes softening as his thumb traces the lines of Harry's face and beckons him to go to sleep, to just leave it.

"you'll be fine" the pad of Harry's thumb grazes his lip, but he's not pushing it away this time, holding his own to the boys chin "it never works out for us and you know it" he's reminding him now. of Jessie, of Clara, of the drugs and the last few years.

It's a sting, a dull ache because he knows it's true, but he sets it aside and hushes him anyways as he takes the last inch and meets Zayn's lips. it's gentle, like testing the waters sort of gentle, before Zayn is responding by turning his head and sighing into it like it's a relief because all the fear of 'what if's have dissipated between them just now in this moment.


	10. whats to become?

Harry's the one who opens the kiss, gliding his tongue over Zayn's lips only suddenly because he's not one to ever initiate but Zayn opens his mouth and nods his head into it deeper.

Harry's mumbling words into Zayn's mouth, trying to form some sort of sentence like _i missed you, please don't forget about me _as the latter pushes so that he gets on his back and he can tower over the top of him, Harry's hands now cupping the sides of his face gentle but trying to get closer all the while Zayn's are sifting through his hair.

Harry feels hot, even hotter when he can feel Zayn's quickening hard on rubbing against his own and he groans under the pressure, making Zayn roll his hips and Harry whine out a crooked "Zayn" which comes almost inaudible.

fingertips feel hot against his sides, travelling down and down and down the sides of his shirt smoothing out the curves of fabric where goosebumps form over and it's a sudden rush of high Harry's never felt before. They've done this before, a sloppy attempt of 'let's get it over and done with' while Harry felt almost numb from all the needles and all the lines and while Zayn felt empty and angry. Even if this is yet another means of goodbye, Harry pushes it to the back of his head whilst the smell of spice stings his nostrils and he's in a daze of honey, swimming between oceans and oceans of soft hands and wet desperate kisses.

His hands are clammy as they grip handfuls of hair, Zayn's face between his thighs and layering kiss upon kiss as he glides his own hands skilfully through the loop holes of Harry's jeans and tugging until he's slipping them from beneath his ankles and leaving them aside.

Then there's just a moment where they stare, Zayn kneeling between him as he gazes upward in waiting, reaching a hand as if to ask _is this real _when Zayn takes it in his own and leans back into him, mouthing off the tight fabric containing him as he shivers and twitches almost wanting to challenge him and smirk _what are you gonna do with it then? _but is too smitten to cooperate with the thought as the latter slips a hand beneath his briefs, the surprisingly cold contact going straight through him like an electric bolt of sheer pleasure coming out his mouth in "Zayn" because at this point it might be the only word he can come up with, obsessed with it, praising the boy like you beg for the sun or pray for the moon and he feels so unreachable just the same.

"tell me" Zayn looks up to him, eyes glinting mischievously beneath long splayed eyelashes, telling him to _beg _like he needs it. A drug, Zayn's the strongest drug he's ever tasted, and a single touch is what sends warm ripples through his veins and going straight to his dick, hips bucking up whilst Zayn's hands hold his wrists down now and watch him, waiting above him.

"need you" he settles, feeling the words disappear between Zayn's lips as he nods and circles his hips again.

"do you touch yourself thinking about me?" it sounds like something out of a book, a mockery as he watches Harry nod with plea "yeah?" Zayn tests, words hitting Harry's red swollen lips in a cold breeze "you pretend that's my hand and not yours, moaning my name" his hands have surpassed the elastic over his hips, wrapping around him, finger tip grazing over his slit "_don't_ you?"

"yes" it sounds more like a blow of wind, repeating "yes" just so Zayn will be satisfied, will call him good and make him worth something.

He feels a cold rush when Zayn's teases his briefs low enough to pull him out, wet pre-come meeting the air as he bites his lip and hisses. He wants to tear Zayn's from him, beg him like a mutt to _fuck me fuck me fuck me, please, make me worth something, i need you, i need it _until he puts him out of his damn misery.

"then show me" he smirks over him, guiding Harry's hand to position it beneath himself and beckoning him to _put on a show. how much do you want it? how much do you need it? open up yourself for me._

His eyes widen, like his brain is screaming _look at it him, get every little piece of him _so that he's watching the way Zayn's eyes burn into him inches away at the way he's turning him into this mess, mouth agape when his finger is being pushed into himself by Zayn's hand, _in_ and _out._

Harry's on his back, head digging into the pillow as he pushes in and out of himself with his own three fingers, knees bent and toes pressing into the mattress as his eyes close tight because he's picturing himself in his room on an off night when he felt especially needy and had to get off to the thought of Zayn, his fingers guiding in and out of him as he shudders beneath him.

"there you go" Zayn's voice brings him back, opening his eyes when Zayn's own lubed up digits take over and he's kissing his jaw as his back arches and chin tilts into the air whilst he hums _mhm mhm mhm _because it's even better than just the thought. Harry's eyes stay trained on Zayn's bare chest now, the few tattoos that litter tan skin, warm to the touch as he makes it to trace them so that he can add them to the growing list of things to remember him by.

"now" Harry finally begs, having Zayn comply as he draws his fingers back out and Harry can feel his now bare thighs press against the backs of his legs as his hands lure his legs to rest on his shoulders, his dick making contact with him for a moment long enough to make him moan "please".

Zayn's eyes stay lingering on him, as if to watch the way his face contorts to the exact detail and the way his lips stretch when his mouth opens to gasp and grab at the air and to fill his lungs, willing them to work when his weight pushes forward and his length is stretching him further before he stops to let him adjust, giving him a simple nod because it's the only thing he can muster up before Zayn's kissing his calves on each side and thrusting back into him with a grunt that surges from his lips to Harry's through the air.

Harry doesn't even feel the sting of his legs when Zayn's leaning down because he needs the contact, needs Zayn's lips against his own and his tongue to swirl against the inside of his cheek, his thighs bouncing off of the backs of his own as he continues his pace, steady for the moment before Harry's moaning into his mouth.

"faster" Harry breathes when Zayn pulls away to watch him, like he's amused at the pooling mess of the boy beneath him, shaking with pleasure, grunting at the air being rushed out of his lungs and the moaning that replaces coherent sentences of _Zayn, Zayn, Zayn._

So Zayn pushes into him deeper, hitting a spot on an angle that makes Harry's vision cloud and moans guttural as he reaches for the sheets to hold on tighter. Zayn's pace only grows faster when he sees, hand against the mattress and the other on his side, deeper and deeper until Harry realises he's drowning in him, watching this great big tidal wave crash course for him and folding over to take him under, a final great big gasp of _Zayn _rumbles like thunder and his eyes shut tighter, coming to the sound of Zayn repeating his name back to him.

When Zayn pulls out, tying off the condom with a knot and sinking down onto Harry who's recovering in great big deals of breath, combining their sweat and Harry's sticky chest from coming the hardest he swears he's ever before, hands wrapping around Zayn immediately in pool of spice and honey.

"I love you" Harry could have sworn it came from his own mouth with the way his mind raced for words to say right now, but the way it cracks mid-air coming from Zayn instead makes it hurt even more because "i love you too".

it's years too late from what it feels like to Harry "only you, all day, every day, and it fucking hurts" Harry's not sure if he's crying or if it's sweat, if he's gasping to catch his breath or suddenly forgetting how to like it's a panic attack "because I can't fucking have you".

Zayn sniffles, and it's then that Harry looks at him through his own fogged view and seeing the streaks falling down his face and pooling at his shoulder "I love you" he's repeating, kissing at Harry's shoulder between words as Harry replaces it with his own mouth, letting the words seep through him and down his throat as he tells it back over and over, both desperately trying to get all those abandoned _I love you's _out.

By the end of it when neither can cry any more, their faces red and eyes puffy as they hold each other and just stare, swapping kisses over and over as they just lie there because there's nothing else to say, there's nothing left to do, there's no fighting the fact that it's all too late.

And for the moment, when their limbs are in a tangle beneath white sheets and just being in one anothers space in this moment they stop fighting against it and let the tape reel, because _this is goodbye._


	11. Epilogue

-

Somehow, when pulling Anne aside one afternoon before work and sitting her down on the couch, Harry admitted to her that he didn't really sign up for college. It was a sight, the boy pacing back and forth scared to look her in the eye, hand brushing through his hair that wouldn't seem to cooperate as he tried to get the words out "it's just- i'm not ready", "i need to figure out who i am first", "this isn't me relapsing", before she was able to take ahold of him, reaching out and circling her arms around him to just get him to pause before she let out a breathy laugh "baby, you do whatever you have to, school can always wait for you".

Robin was a little nervous about it, scared of having him so far away all on his own when he took a double take and repeated "by yourself?" over and over. He has every right to be nervous because Harry is still Harry, the kid who will just about pass out when he freaks out because he's in a room full of people he doesn't quite know, but Anne will get him to see because he's smitten for her he knows. of course Robin is still happy for him regardless, and he stresses Harry more than Anne to call and to send updates of what he's doing any chance he gets.

Zayn Malik left on an afternoon a few days after the night of the graduation party, when Harry was wheeling Gemma's old bike around to the neighbours house down the street because they have a little daughter and the Styles' are trying to make space. Harry almost laughs because he thinks the sun is sad too, hiding behind its clouds that pour down buckets of rain and Trisha is yelling and running for the car under a sheet of paper.

They catch glimpse of one another, Zayn holding onto a box of things that Harry would assume to be his comics because you'd be daft to assume he'd go anywhere without them, Harry is across the way holding onto the handles of this bike, and they just stare as they get drenched under the spray. It doesn't happen like a movie, no one runs toward the other to confess their undying love, all they do is nod and smile which is oddly enough for Harry because at least this time he got a goodbye.

He left only a day later because he was scared the town would suck him up, and his fingers started to tremble because he wasn't taking his medication and the what if's were starting to soak up his brain. He needed to prove to himself he could do something, on his own, and for himself.

Europe was good to him, he stayed with a small family in Italy that he promised not to forget, the way he was terrible with words and most of his company would just offer him drinks and because he didn't know how to say no thanks he just said sí over and over and sucked up the feeling of his bladder on the verge of exploding. The daughter, a young girl who's nonna promised she'd be a model, was probably the best english speaking one of them and she loved to tease him over it.

Everyone talked about scaling the Eiffel tower, but he was terrified of heights and crowds so it took a lot of him to get up there one night when he was feeling a little regretful, having called Anne and trying to egg her on to just tell him to come home, but of course she never did, and so he mustered up the courage to walk up that god damn tower and took a nice photo next with this old singapore man with a crooked smile and a thumbs up that he sent to his mom right after.

Belgium waffles aren't as good as they say (in his opinion, he's not much of a waffle fan), but the company is better as he sat outside a busy stall and talked to a young couple on their honeymoon. They asked him if he had a girlfriend and he shrugged, not wanting to leave himself in these places, he wanted to be a guest. someone who walked through the wind and left no trace of themselves, just wanted to experience and then move on, be known as that british one who was travelling and stopped by when he spoke to booksellers in cramped little stores in Switzerland, had one too many and won a drinking contest with a group of adult men in germany, almost froze to death and had to rug up to this old woman's spare coat as she warned him about a blizzard due in Stockholm as they rode the line, and the girl he kissed one night in spain as they danced and the young boys tried to get him to join along to a flamenco dance which he sat out and just clapped along with in the end because it would be a little sad of a story to explain when he's back on his door step at home early with a broken ankle.

He made note to stop in the Vatican when he was in Rome most importantly, stood under the width of paint and dazed as his neck cramped up and he just stared and marvelled. he took a lot of photos that day, and a woman asked him if he would take a photo of her and her husband-and because she looked very much like Gemma but older, he almost cried at the thought of talking to her and did so, sometimes forgetting how lonely it could be without the people you are used to being around night and day with like that.

He could go on about his days and nights travelling through the continent, the faces he passed, the ones who stopped and talked, people who asked his story and where he came from and he would just shrug them off, the ones who's stories he listened to because people just loved to talk about themselves and he loved to listen but he didn't want it to ever be a big thing like that-he just wanted it to be special and close to him, something he could call back on if he needed to and say oh yeah i did that once, and carry on.

His last stop was around christmas, and he was so tired that he slept the whole plane ride after two delays because it's christmas season and when he landed and had a stewardess wake him up he glared at her with one eye open and even considered asking her for another minute as she wished him a Merry Christmas Eve (a little strained behind an all too tight smile) and because he could see through her eyes she was begging him to just get up so she could go home to her kids, he did so and wished her the same.

Deciding it would be the wrong time to call Anne, it probably being too early in the morning plus he's already made her suffer enough "mom i think i wanna come home"s at three am when she would get up and sit him down, he on one end and her on the other sipping tea or coffee in her slippers and gown, she just let him go on about his day leading up before she would simply tell him to have a good night and she would go back to bed herself, he pocketed his phone and walked through the busy terminal littered with old christmas decorations hung from ceilings and windows, families reuniting, boyfriends and girlfriends visiting from wherever to spend christmas with each other, and it made him momentarily at a loss for himself as he tried to ask where to get his luggage.

Thanking himself for packing lightly, he began pushing against the crowd awkwardly attempting to seep through the crevices of angry and tired people trying to get to their bags to find the exit. His hand slipped into his pocket to pull out the mobile when it began to vibrate and he even thought for a moment it was his mom calling on instinct, to wish him a Merry Christmas Eve, or see how his flight went and if he's warm enough right now before being taken almost by surprise when the deep laugh cracked open his skull and waking him completely at the exasperated "wow, you actually answered"

"I think half America is in this airport" he muttered, ignoring the previous comment, trying to smooth passed a little kid blocking half the walkway with his parents to the side arguing most likely over a delay and his eyes lit up when he finally caught glimpse of the 'exit' sign above the door ahead.

"fuck it's freezing-i'll never get over this god damn weather" they seemed to have ongoing conversations by themselves before Harry mustered up a smirk "hey shut up-theres this really hot guy ahead of me, how should i approach?"

"oh yeah?" he paused his previous groaning over the ice cold weather to entertain him.

"yeah, and his ride looks even hotter, he's probably a douche bag then-but maybe i'll convince him to give me a ride for a blowjob in the passenger seat-"

"HARRY" hanging up then, he took his last strides across the lot, barely escaping a raging yellow cab trying to find an opening where there was no people to drive out. If he thought inside was a mess he was mistaken, and he would've groaned at how they were definitely getting stuck in an hours worth of traffic over this.

"Don't hesitate...i'll shoot" Harry snaked his hands around the back of his head to take him by surprise, making him curse under his freezing cold fingers and admittedly tensing for a second to then take his wrists and pull them reluctantly away before turning on his heel to call him out "you shit"

"are you cold? why didn't you just wait in the car?" Harry thumbed over the pink dainty shade across his cheeks and nose as if he would make them disappear, smooth them out and get his blood rushing, the sudden worry in his voice and contorted lines of his face making the latter roll his eyes but not before pulling him close and tipping his head to place a soft dry kiss to his lips that made Harry melt, his body reacting to warm up again and kiss back before he was pulling away again and he just realised how much he missed them-his lips.

"Zaynnn" he whined next when he was snatching his bag from him to put in the back all the while pointing for him to get in the car and warm up. He agreed nonetheless because he was actually freezing, turning the dial higher to hold his hands in front of as he prayed for feeling.

"do you want to go get food? there's not much open seems it's so late but i'm sure we can find a shitty pizza place somewhere" Zayn shifted into his seat to get comfortable, slapping Harry's hand away when he caught him flipping through the stations, telling him to leave it as he turned on the vehicle and tried to get out of the cramped park.

"nah, 'm too tired, rather go to bed" Harry yawned, watching as they passed dozens of different people standing around in packs attempting to stay warm and keep an eye out, glad it wasn't him right now as he sat further into the seat.

"how was the flight?" Zayn asked next, Harry reacting by tugging at the imaginary rope around his neck tying in knots because of the way he slept bent against a head rest, wincing and making Zayn only laugh a breathy "i guess that says it".

"you know...we are probably gonna be sitting in this traffic for a decent amount of time-" He turned to face Harry when he realised they weren't going anywhere, the officer to the side gesturing cars through with his hand one second and stopping the next.

"you would want me to blow you right now" Harry responded menacingly, shaking his head just to make him sigh in a 'it was worth the ask' type of way.

-

Zayn's place was in an old but recently reopened complex. he said they redid the whole thing but only by decor, and then mentioned how regardless of how good the assholes were that fixed it all up, they did a shit job at making sure the thermostat was still in tact, stopping conversation every now and then to ask if Harry needed a hand with his bag which he turned him down each time.

they stopped in front of 308 and Zayn muttered something along the lines of excuse the mess, my roommate's a pig, but he's also a good guy so i hate him even more because i cant and Harry nodded along, padding in close behind as they entered and he swore "you weren't fucking lying about the heater" when he dropped his bag off to the side and pushed Zayn's hand away when he turned to continue to complain so that he could make a move on him, hands pulling at his cheeks to bring him into another kiss but deeper this time.

"won't you give me a second?" Zayn laughed against his mouth, not pulling away but feeling Harry still against his hot breath as he shook his head to whine "you had a whole year of a second" making him give up, his hand cupping the cheeks of Harry's ass, kneading at the skin under his jeans that he took as an invitation to jump up so that he could wrap his legs around his waste, his clothed dick rubbing against him at the close proximity making him feel only hotter.

It took Zayn by surprise, the sudden weight in his arms which he would say was much more than the last time he saw him, but he might ruin the moment so instead he slid his tongue into his mouth, making Harry sigh against the warm wet feeling and that of Zayn's heated hands holding his ass up as he stumbled backward "fuck me, like right now" he mumbled into him.

"where?" was all he responded with, not in a challenging way but because he would do it in an instant, wanting it just as much from the year apart full of sexual tension and the open goodbye they left behind. One night over the phone, Harry was Sardinia , Italy when he admitted he got lost because it was so hard to talk to anyone around there, Zayn worked up the courage to ask him what would happen if they were to cross paths again. would they be back to simpler times? just friends? who maybe made out every now and then? (not that he'd add that part) and Harry shrugged through the phone "we don't need to call it anything" which made Zayn instantly sink in on himself, not knowing how to respond to the rejection.

"I like you, and you like me, and that's enough for now" he continued, making Zayn feel hopeful as he nodded back and made him promise that America was gonna be his last stop to come and visit which is how they ended up here. They counted the days, Zayn would send him photos of his eggs one morning and the car park he aced on the way to school, and Harry would send him all the photos he took (for him) of the Vatican when he felt a little lost on inspiration and cried about how he didn't know what the fuck he was doing.

"right here, on the couch, and the coffee table, and the counter, and the fucking kitchen floor after that" Harry moaned obscenely when Zayn placed him back down in just the way their cocks rubbed against one another through their heat "What if my roommate gets home?" that part was more of a tease, just to see how desperate Harry was even though he knew for a fact they wouldn't be home for another week after flying out to visit their girlfriend in New Castle, and he wasn't at all disappointed when Harry smirked "then he can watch" whilst making the effort to unbuckle his belt and not bite his tongue at the same time.

"how do you want it?" he sounded like a damn waiter worrying about how he liked his steak, so willing and ready to do it anyway he wanted, waiting impatiently for his order.

"sit down" Harry pushed at his chest instead, beckoning him behind until his legs buckled at the feeling of the couch hitting the backs of his legs, falling into the cushioned seat with a omph when Harry looked him over once more, his hair unruly and cheeks painted dark with sudden warmth and his body trying to catch up with the cold.

he pulled down his pants, eyeing him off as he made the effort to make it slow and painful for Zayn to watch just to get a kick out of him when he whined for Harry to hurry up.

When Harry stood out of his own pants as they pooled around his feet, Zayn stopped to take it all in, his bigger thighs now, his still long legs that stood more tan than their old pale, inviting him back in when he spread his arms and Harry sat down on his lap, his legs around the back of him as he leaned down to press soft wet kisses against his lips and the sides of his mouth with a whisper of "fuck, i missed you" that he probably didn't realise he said aloud as he rutted against Zayn now, making him lean his head back to lie against the rest as Harry's hand slid under his waist band to start stroking him through it.

he winced at first, the sudden cold feel of Harry's hand guiding over his head and tip, only to slide back down his shaft in a steady pace as he kissed "i want you inside me, i want you so bad" which he replaced with i need you, ive missed you, i want you so bad, i love you, love me?

And just because he did, because he loved Harry so fucking much, not like he used to love Harry when they were closer to brothers, not even the way he realised he was crushing over the boy when he was jerking off to this reoccurring dream of him when he was fifteen at least once a week for months, but the kind he wanted to roll over like a damn puppy for this boy, he wanted to kiss him and take him out for dinner and introduce him to his parents as Harry Styles, my boyfriend because it all sounded just that good, he slid the shirt from Harry's chest over his head with his compliance when he raised his arms to help.

Zayn traces the lines of him, the warm dark patch of skin beneath his pecs and slid his tongue over the curves of him as his hands worked to pull his underwear off from beneath him. "you sure?" he asked when Harry was making no attempt to move to let him go and get lube or a fucking condom and he rolled his hips in response.

He made sure to build up enough slick not to hurt him, jerking him off and using his own pre-cum as lube when he inserted a finger into him, making him groan and lean into it whilst Zayn worked him out and he worked on leaving marks against his neck. When he got sick of waiting, Harry pushed his hand to the side and watched him ever-so-fucking-intently as he positioned himself over the tip of him, already dripping in anticipation, before lowering onto him with a deep breath that Zayn swallowed in their kiss and waited for him worrying "are you okay?" as Harry adjusted and licked at the previous marks he had made over his neck, circling his hips with a guttural moan against the wetness of his skin to say yes, Zayn's fingers pressing into his hips to hold him closer enough to bite at his lip and lick at his mouth.

Harry used Zayn's shoulders to hold himself, watching him through his haze of long awaited pleasure, pumping into himself with him, a free hand jacking himself off in the process, it was godlike from Zayn's perspective.

This beautiful, alive, breathing, creature, he kissed at because he could , because Harry was there , finally.

"I think I-I'm-gonna-" Harry worked himself up, hardly able to hold position as he worked at himself and let Zayn take over, fucking into him from beneath him and whispering come on, come for me, that's it baby.

The look of Harry, from his sweaty forehead and tinted face, his breath falling to his shoulder as he slumped over covered in himself was enough to send Zayn almost directly after, shooting into him with a groan and pulling Harry off moments later as he began to pour down his legs.

"are you okay?" Zayn pushed his hair aside, ready to get into a heap about him getting in the shower and letting him make toasted sandwiches for them both, open a carton of juice and watch The Grinch just as Christmas peaked around the corner of the night and the city around them grew quieter.

"I-I love you-is that okay?" Harry was almost silent now, not sure if he would take the offer. If not, it will be an awkward morning and by far the worst Christmas to date, and he didn't think he deserved it coming from him but couldn't help but let it slip out.

Zayn's face softened, kissing at his cheek and rubbing a his thumb over it as he nodded "good, because i love you too, and i'm not letting you go just that easily".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU GUYS FOR ALL THE SUPPORT!! HOPE YOU ENJOYED !


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